


In Stasis

by Egosumlux



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Episode: Big Finish Audio Drama 2.5: Broken, F/M, Gen, Ianto's Suspension, M/M, POV Ianto Jones, Post-Episode: s01e04 Cyberwoman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 04:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11350032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Egosumlux/pseuds/Egosumlux
Summary: Four weeks. Four weeks with nothing to do except think about what he’d done and the subsequent fallout.





	In Stasis

**Author's Note:**

> After Cyberwoman but before Broken. This also ties into the mention of Ianto being suspended for four weeks after the events of Cyberwoman in the book, The Torchwood Archives by Gary Russell. I am sorry for any mistakes, spelling or otherwise.

Four weeks. Four weeks with nothing to do except think about what he’d done and the subsequent fallout. Who would clean the hub while he was away? There was a terrible mess there now. Would they just leave it till he came back? Would that terrible smelling sauce Jack had squirted on Lisa still be there on the floor? Dried and nearly impossible to remove? Or would one of the team start the clean up? Maybe Gwen? She was new but already Jack’s favorite. It didn’t matter, all he’d wanted was to show up, do the job, find a way to fix Lisa, and then live as happily ever after as he possibly could but now it was all shit. He was out of work for four weeks, had nothing to do because Lisa and work had been the entire center of his life, and on top of it all, like the proverbial cherry, a rotten cherry at that, Jack had kissed him. 

He shuddered now just thinking about it. To be fair it hadn’t been a terrible kiss but it hadn’t been a welcome one either. There they were, trying to stay alive and he’d been knocked out cold only to wake with Jack’s lips moving against his. Jack’s arm around him and his hand pressed against the side of his face. He felt sick.  Why had Jack done that?  Sure, the guy was a huge flirt. Everyone and everything was fair game but it had only ever been words and now it had gone beyond and he was confused. It probably hadn’t meant anything to Jack, maybe he’d been meaning to perform mouth-to-mouth but, realizing it wasn’t needed, had instead turned the motion into a kiss. Well, he now had four weeks to think about it and decide what to do as far as how to act around Jack once he was allowed back. 

 

**Week One**

The first day he rose like usual, showered and dressed. He was now sitting at the small table in his flat, drinking water and trying not to cry. Lisa was gone. Jack had killed her, they’d all killed her but it was Jack he blamed most of all. He could have saved her, he knew he could but Jack had just shot her. Today he hated Jack and maybe he wouldn’t go back to work but who was he kidding, what else did he have now besides Torchwood? 

He stood and moved to the loveseat finally realizing he was wearing a suit. Why? He had nowhere to go but it was habit. When had he started wearing a suit anyway? He hadn’t worn one when he’d first come to Cardiff, first tried to get a job with Jack. However, he’d been wearing one the night they captured Myfanwy. The night he and Jack had almost kissed there on the floor beside the pteranodon. He’d come so close to doing it and he didn’t know why. Perhaps the excitement of the moment. Maybe the, what had Jack called them, 51st century pheromones, whatever that meant but God the man smelled amazing and he had felt his body reacting.  It still reacted sometimes when Jack got too close but thankfully he didn’t get close often or Ianto would constantly be having to carry files to cover his crotch. He snorted at that. No more would the man affect him like that, he wouldn’t allow himself to react. No, Jack would be nothing but his boss and the others nothing but coworkers. He’d go to work, go home, and then do it all again the next day. Maybe one day he’d find someone new. Someone Torchwood couldn’t ruin. Or maybe one day, he’d simply become a casualty in the constant battle of protecting the earth from alien life.  

He went into the bedroom, taking off the suit because he felt stupid wearing it. Lisa had liked when he wore a suit. His mind returned to the night Jack had hired him, he'd complimented the suit too. Stop thinking about him, he commanded himself angrily. If he hadn't needed Torchwood’s resources he'd have never sought the man out. Oh, he'd known about Jack of course. Yvonne Hartman had mentioned him several times in less than flattering terms. He'd known that flattery with some mild flirting would more than likely interest the man but it wasn't until that night in the warehouse that Jack had responded. He frowned. Maybe he would have kissed Jack that night, he'd kinda wanted to out of curiosity but there had been so many reasons not to. Lisa, Jack would be his boss, Jack was a man but if he really thought about it that wasn't a deterrent just something different. 

He turned around, considered making his bed but instead returned to it, pulling the covers up to his chin and allowed misery to overwhelm him. 

 

After a few days he'd settled somewhat into a routine, wake early, stay in bed, think about how much he hated Jack, cry about Lisa, get up, stare out the window at the street, and then back to bed. He lay there now, wondering when he’d last eaten. This wasn’t him and he hated it, hated Jack for ruining his life, hated the Cybermen for taking Lisa, simply put, he hated everything and that was when the thoughts of ending it all began to creep in.

 

**Week Two**

He’d planned it out so well, he was good at planning. Well, good at planning everything except his life. He looked at the cord on the table he’d picked up from a camping supply place. Heavy enough not to break but where was he going to do this? He didn’t think he’d be able to do it from a door knob with the less than sturdy construction of his flat. He frowned, maybe pills would be better? If he had a car, but that wouldn’t work as he had no garage. Slitting his wrists was out of the question, too much pain and a terrible mess. He wished he’d kept Jack’s gun.  How appropriate would that have been? Shooting himself with the bastard’s own gun, not that Jack would care. His whole life would be packed into a box and his body shoved into cold storage with no second thoughts. He looked around, no pictures on the walls, no bits of debris that signaled he had any hobbies or collected anything, nothing except his unmade bed and the empty glass in front of him even signified someone lived here. There wouldn’t even be a need to waste a cardboard box as there was nothing to put in it. 

He put his head down on the table. Where had he gone wrong? He’d done his best. Left Cardiff, went to London, met Lisa, came back to Cardiff bringing a changed Lisa, trying to keep Lisa alive, losing Lisa, losing his life, hating Jack, hating Torchwood. Death really would solve everything. His phone rang but he ignored it, knowing he more than likely didn’t want to speak to whoever was calling. Could be Jack or well, more likely Gwen. Policewoman Gwen, always ready to break the bad news with a calm word and a cup of tea. To Hell with her and Jack. If Jack wanted to apologize, not that Ianto would accept it, he could damn well do it himself. The phone started up again and he blindly reached for it.

“What?”

“Ianto?”

“Mum?”

“What’s wrong, Ianto.”

“Mum, I’m,” he had been about to tell her he was going through a rough patch but stopped himself. She’d only want him to come over and he definitely didn’t want to do that, “I was sleeping.”

“Oh well, I was just checking on you. I know it’s been awhile since we spoke,” she took a breath, “and I know you still miss Lisa.”

“It’s okay, mum. I’m fine, just busy.”

“With work,” she said, not even a question since work was always his excuse for not going to see her or call her. 

“Yes,” he sat up, “work.”

“Well, I just wanted to check in on you, Ianto, make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine, mum,” he lied again.

“Well, don’t be a stranger. Come around for tea when you have some time.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Well, good-bye then.”

He click to end the call, not bothering to reply. If nothing else, his mum cared he was around although he wasn’t really sure how much. Quite possibly she was just lonely since Rhiannon rarely took the kids to see her. Of course, he rarely ever went to see her. He was a terrible son. He hadn’t even been able to call his father or even go see him before he died. Died in hospital waiting for his son who couldn’t be bothered to make one simple phone call. He pushed the rope away, maybe he’d go camping some day.  He put his head back down on the table.

 

**Week Three**

He woke, tangled in the sheets, his breath ragged. Nightmare, it was only a nightmare. He sat up, shoving the covers aside. Lisa, he’d been fighting Lisa and then Jack kissing him, Lisa again before the conversion but Jack shot her anyway, Jack touching him.

“Oh God,” he wailed, pressing his face into his hands, “oh God.”

He stood, noticing he was hard and mortification swept through him. What kind of sick bastard got hard from a nightmare? He stumbled into the bathroom to splash water on his face, glancing at his watch. It wasn’t even 9 p.m. He need to get out, get out of this apartment, go for a walk maybe. Just something. He dressed, jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, and threw on a jacket. He’d go get groceries, he needed milk and bread and coffee. He felt weak as he went down the stairs, but that’s what happened when you didn’t eat for days. 

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, staring out at the rain slick street. Maybe right now wasn't the time to be doing his shopping? Maybe he should just go back and do this tomorrow. He turned and took a step up, no he needed to go. He had to return to normal, or what was normal for him. He set off down the street, keeping his head down. A piece of paper flapping in the light breeze caught his attention and he slowed. A missing persons post, nothing he could fix, he kept walking. Up ahead a pub’s dull yellow light spilled across the pavement. He passed by ignoring the pull of a drink. His thoughts were thrown back to his time in London, his time with Lisa. They'd gone for drinks often with their friends. He'd had friends then and a flatmate and a life he'd actually liked. In London no one dismissed him as just ‘the coffee boy’ or ignored his presence in their midst. He'd been useful to the organization and sometimes his opinion had been asked for. Even though he'd never done field work, he'd still brought experience to the Cardiff operation but it had gone unnoticed. Even Jack mostly ignored him until he needed coffee or something filed. Now Jack might decide he didn't need Ianto at all and as nice as it sounded at first, to be free of the drudgery, he had nothing else. 

He grabbed a few items at the Tesco, mostly things that were quick to make and eat. He thought about Lisa on the way back. The dinners they'd made, laughing, ending up in bed, and he couldn't remember ever being so happy. Of course they'd had disagreements, what couple didn't, but they'd always been resolved with little fuss. On the climb back up to his flat he'd had to stop, to rest a moment before resuming his trek. He put his groceries away in the proper places, laughing a little to himself as he did. Well, at least he hadn't lost his sense of everything in it's right place. 

He put on the electric kettle and set about  making tea.

“Clean mug, spoon, no sugar, milk,” he opened the fridge, “bloody hell.”

He'd forgotten milk. How had he forgotten the damn milk! He could always get out tomorrow. He glanced at the clock 10 p.m. he still had time. Lisa would have laughed at him and pushed him out the door claiming there would be no tea without milk and she needed tea to relax after a long day at work. 

“Go, Ianto, I'll be here when you get back,” she'd kiss him and he'd go. But tonight there would be no Lisa to welcome him home so maybe he didn't need to go. No, he'd want porridge or something in the morning and would need milk. Best just to go now. 

This time however, he did not keep walking past the pub.

 

**Week 4**

Well, if nothing else he now had a local to get a pint and a new friend. His sorrow was resolving into resentment and the need for revenge. How he would get this revenge he had no idea. Poison Jack’s coffee maybe? Not the others though, they’d only been following orders. No, this was entirely Jack’s doing and maybe him being gone would also end the dreams he’d had this week of having sex with Jack. These mostly occurred after he’d been drinking but not always.  He’d wake, hard, only able to get off by finishing the dream as a fantasy in his head. Fantasy, ha! A fantasy would have been with Lisa but only thoughts of Jack moved the ending along. Yeah, the guy was handsome, sometimes funny, charismatic, but he was also a monster. Everyone could be terrible but Jack seemed to take it as a challenge to be worse than anyone else could ever hope to be. 

Now the thought of that stupid, beautiful smile he constantly flashed did little for Ianto except make him want to punch Jack in the mouth, hard. Of course, any time that smile had been specifically  directed at him when he’d first started, he’d basked in it, feeling as though maybe he’d done something right to have deserved it. It probably wasn’t the case but that was the way Jack made you feel, on top of the world when he praised you and like less than nothing when his attention was directed elsewhere. He couldn’t think of anyone he’d ever hated more than he hated Jack. 

He wondered at the relationship between Jack and Gwen, not that it mattered of course. They both seemed interested in each other but Jack had kissed him, not her. Well, not that he knew of anyway. Maybe his kisses were like his smiles, he had one for everybody. He frowned, it didn’t matter. He didn’t care. He would return to work, return to being ignored. Maybe he’d stop making his special coffee and start making tea. That they might notice but he’d have excuses ready as to why he wasn’t able to make their coffee dreams come true. He laughed, coffee dreams sounded like a soft porn movie title. Soft porn, unlike his dreams lately. He frowned. There’d been nothing soft about those. 

He shifted as he remembered last night’s dream. Jack’s body hard against his, his mouth on Jack’s. It was more fighting than fucking but he’d woken painfully hard and tried again to think of Lisa but his body wasn’t having any of that. He’d bit down hard on his lower lip to keep from shouting Jack’s name as he came. Afterward he’d lain still, staring at the ceiling as shame washed over him. He wasn’t ashamed to be dreaming of a man, that had happened before but he was ashamed that it had been Jack who’d gotten him to this point. Why Jack? God, he’d almost rather it be Owen who he hated also but for entirely different reasons. 

He looked around at his flat, noticing how he’d just let it all go. There were dishes beside the sink that had been there for days, the post was piled on the table in front of him where he’d left it without even looking through it, and he himself was probably due for a shower. He had three days left until he returned to work. Three days to get himself in order and figure out how to deal with being back in Jack’s presence. He still wanted payback of some sort but some small part of him was curious to know how Jack really was in private moments. Not that Ianto would ever have the chance to find out and given the choice between revenge and sex, he’d choose the former.

 

**Week Five**

He was back, suit on and fake smile in place but everything was broken. The Hub was a complete mess, the SUV probably hadn’t been washed or cleaned out once but worst of all was Jack’s watchful gaze. The team no longer trusted him which was to be expected but the whole atmosphere was terrible. He stayed silent, did what was asked, made coffee, and kept out of everyone, especially Jack’s, way. He had nothing else in his life except this job. The thought of it being like this forever was almost too much to bear but he would carry on and hope that one day it could be fixed. 


End file.
